


The Man

by interestedbystander



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, CEO, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23728891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interestedbystander/pseuds/interestedbystander
Summary: Hotelier!Bucky bringing you all the power moves.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

If there was anything more pitiful than sitting alone at the bar at your ex’s wedding, it was getting tipsier each drink you downed on your own, you assumed. The clammy drink tumbler in your hand and once again down to its dregs… not to mention the room was starting to spin a little.

You were just biding your time, waiting for a lull in proceedings to make phantom away. You ditched the “singles” table (the fucking gall of it in the first place) you’d been seated at hours ago and found peace with the bartender’s sad gaze at your lonely predicament. It was probably nothing new to him anyway -

“Anyone sittin’ here?” A voice asked as you politely shook your head. It was time to make a move anyway, enough was enough. You collected your clutch ready to make your unassuming dash.

“Seat’s all yours,” you muttered. “Enjoy your night.”

“Off so soon?” He asked as you attempted to walk away.

You turned back. “Not a wedding person,” you found yourself replying.

“Here for the bride or groom?”

 _Neither_ , you wanted to reply. “Groom,” you swallowed to cover your dry throat.

He nodded, a friendly smile on his face. “Bride, myself. Used to mess around with her sister. Don’t really know how I scored an invite to be honest. Actually, maybe I do,” he chuckled to himself to your slight confusion.

“Sister dear wants you back,” you snipped.

“Something like that,” he shrugged. “Can I buy you a free drink from the bar?”

You paused, taking a second to drink him in. Cute, you decided. Not your usual type - but your usual type was currently celebrating his marriage to the one he dumped you for so who were you to judge? You really had to start looking at your life choices. But what was one more drink with this friendly stranger? “Free, you say?” you casually joked back, heart rate rising because really, you weren’t sure why you were still talking but meeting a handsome guy in a nice suit at the reception’s bar also wasn’t on the to-do list for the night. To-do list be damned, you mentally tossed it in the bin.

“Aren’t we all here for the open bar?” he winked. You laughed. He was kind of beyond cute - the kind of cute that didn’t have a hard time casually chatting to women and waking up in their beds the next morning. 

“Not untrue,” you said as he patted the seat you were just on and you took it again. 

“Oscar, two glasses of the _Krug_ , please,” he instructed amid your surprise at him knowing the bartenders name and Oscar nodded, putting down the glasses he was polishing to pour the champagne. 

“Of course, sir.”

“You know him?” you asked.

“It’s wedding season,” he teased. “I meet lots of bartenders but Oscar is a mixologist,” he said, knowingly as the bartender grinned to himself.

“Thank you, sir,” Oscar took to opening the bottle with a swift pop.

“Hold on, hold on,” you tried. “I know the bartender’s name, but I don’t know yours.”

“James,” he offered his hand with a gentle smile as he extended his palm to you and you took it - warm and a little calloused, you noted. The gym, you figured from the his broad shoulders and biceps straining under his tight suit jacket. A small crease in the corner of his lip and all of a sudden, all you could picture was putting your lips on it while you pinned his hands at the wrist above his head and rode him until the morning hours. 

Whoa, you realised. So that’s how he ended up in the bed of randoms. And frankly, you probably wouldn’t mind if you were just a notch on his bed post at this point either. It wasn’t beer goggles, James simply was that good looking. He had a knack for making conversation which you didn’t but he was keeping you chatting.

Playful blue eyes that knew he was under your scrutiny, a smile that was made more delicious from the slide of his wet tongue over plump red lips, well maintained beard that you were desperate to feel against your thighs. 

The more you stared, the more under his spell your felt. You blinked a few times, shaking your head. You’d had more than enough to drink, you rationalised, asking the bartender for some water. You needed to start sobering up before you made some questionable decisions. 

“Tell me about yourself,” he pressed lightly. “What do you do?”

“I’m studying,” you replied, bashfully. “I work at a coffee shop on the weekends and between classes. I probably should have my life together, but a few years ago, my life was kind of turned on my head and I decided that if that’s what life was gonna throw at me, I should probably roll with it. I worked in an office in another life, I hated it.”

“I hear you,” he agreed. “I could never be chained to a desk.” 

“What do you do?”

“Travel a lot,” he admitted vaguely. “Feel like I’m always on a plane these days.”

“I’d love to travel,” you replied wistfully.

“The world is out there waiting for you,” he said, a charming half smile gracing his face and reaching his eyes with a cheeky smile. “Have you travelled?”

“I’ve been to Europe. Spain and France for a month. Wasn’t enough. I need to see more, you know?”

“I do know,” he agreed. “I haven’t spent time taking in the tourist spots for years. I barely have enough time in places to rest my head.”

“That sounds sad,” you told him as he gave a casual shrug and lifted his champagne flute to his lips. “I will be working in Asia, launching a few projects in the next few months, so hopefully that’ll keep me in one place for a while.”

“What do you do?” you asked again, not wanting to be nosy but you were intrigued now.

He dropped his eyes, a little modesty crossing his face before meeting your eyes again. “Ever heard of _Barnes Hotels_?”

“Barnes Hotels?” you repeated. “This is a Barnes Hotel. You work here?”

He touched his nose gently, miming that you were on the money. “I run the whole fuckin’ show, babydoll.”

“Holy shit,” you said, surprised. 

“Wanna tour?” he asked, nodding his head towards the exit of the ball room.

Yeah… you really did. He offers his hand and you eagerly took it, gripping your clutch in the other as James ducked and weaved politely through dancing and tables towards the doors.

“Sir,” the doorman said, opening the doors for you both upon his approach. “Enjoy your night.”

“I plan to, Roger,” James agreed, patting the man’s shoulder appreciatively. “You also.”

* * *

Pressing the ‘up’ button at the elevator lobby, James stood beside you, keeping a respectful distance between you that you wished he’d invade. He kept you back as a couple stepped in before you both. They looked at James curiously. “We’ll take the next one,” he gave them a warm smile they returned and the doors closed. Pressing the ‘up’ again, the next elevator was vacated and it was just you two this time.

He pressed the ‘close’ and ‘Penthouse’ buttons, giving a security card a swipe. 

“Wanna see the best view in the city?” he asked, taking a few steps closer to you and pining you gently to the corner of the elevator as you felt it start to rise. He nudged a thigh between yours, his hands gently grazing your cheeks, before a calloused palm held your face, his eyes gently searching yours and your body screamed, ‘fucking yes, yes, yes!’ and he kissed you, soft and sweet, unobtrusively. 

He moved further into your personal space, taking your hands and putting them to his waist. You unbuttoned his suit jacket to slip your hands side, your fingertips grazing the soft cotton on his shirt and the muscles hidden underneath. 

“As much as I want to fuck you right here,” he whispered hotly. “There too many cameras,” he took a step back, smiling at the flush that was reddening across your cheeks and décolletage. You gripped the bar against the wall tightly as the elevator opened directly into the low lit Penthouse. He held his hand out, letting you step in first and gee, it was something else. Floor to ceiling windows looking straight out to the glittering city. 

“What a view,” you said to yourself as you felt hands on your hips and James lead you closer to the windows until you could feel the cool pressing against your front, causing a shiver and he turned you to face him, his hands drifting up your sides, across the silk of your dress, just resting under your breasts.

“Shall we have a drink?”

You’d certainly had enough - you wondered if you’d drunken less if you’d even be here. “I’m good,” you replied, pushing back his suit jack to the floor and reaching for his tie to loosen it.

“I hate that thing,” he admitted as your fingers undid the knot and you pulled it away, unbuttoning the top button, his Adam’s bubbling in its freedom. James licked his lip, his knuckles grazing down your arms to your thighs, and sliding the straps of your dress down your shoulders before turning you back to the city. James’ lips traced the curve of your neck, hands rolling around to the zip and making light work it, letting the garment fall to the floor, leaving you in your lingerie and heels. “They stay on,” he said as his thumbs hooked into the hem of your knickers and his fingers left light patterns over your already sensitive skin. “Can I touch you here?” he asked hotly, leaving an open-mouth kiss again your racing pulse. You think you nodded but couldn’t be sure as his long fingers skimmed between your folds, gently prodding to test the waters. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. All from little, old me?” he taunted. 

“God, yes,” your head fell back, an arm lacing back around his neck to help keep you upright, the other slamming against the window as he shuffled closer, his body pressed against yours and pushing your front across the cold glass, sending wild, uncontrollable goose pimples across your skin. 

His fingers still toying between your folds, James used his free hand to the clasp of your strapless bra, letting it fall into the pile at your feet. A warm palm raised to your breast as he took a straining nipple between his fingers and clenched, his palm soft against your breast. Below, his fingers dipped in and out of you with a slow rhythm, your wetness already dripping down his fingers and your thighs, as his thumb started to pad against your clit. He was playing your body like a symphony, your body thrumming with desire, gagging for release. “Come on my hand,” he instructed, his teeth chewing gently against your earlobe, his hands not missing a beat. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

“Oh, my God,” you managed, your body rutting against his fingers and begging to loose control. You felt your orgasm warm your body to a burning flame as he ground his clothed cock into your ass, wanting to feel every part of you come against him. He chuckled lightly as he helped keep you on two jelly legs as you came roughly against him, what skills he had and that was just his hands. 

“How was that, kitten?” he murmured, knowing exactly how it was. You enjoyed the cheek of him, the nerve of his ego. It was fitting for him. A position of power suited him, you realised as you caught your breath and saw him nuzzle your neck in the reflection of the window and turned to face him. 

“That was so good.”

He gave a shy smile and kissed you, taking in your body and sliding your knickers off, a look of appreciation on his face at your naked form. You took the initiative to start undressing him, desperately unloosing his belt and allowing your hands to caress his straining cock through the material of his slacks. You needed to see him undressed, the curves and ridges of his muscles. Unzipping his fly, the soft material feel to the clothes pile between you and he kicked off his shoes, along with skilfully dragging off his socks with his feet as you started unbuttoning his shirt, commencing at the cuffs and moving down his torso, happily pushing it over his strong shoulders, tenderly touching the soft, tanned skin, a surprising red star tattoo on his left shoulder. He started guiding you back toward the massive California King bed to which you both landed with a joking oof, you in your heels and he in his Calvins. 

What was it with a man and their Calvins? You see a peek under some jeans, or that’s all their wearing and it just turned you into a mess. Like right now and you let your finger wander from his pecs and through his abs to his belly button then his happy trail. “What do you want, James?” you dared ask. You weren’t at all aggressive in the bedroom but you had a feeling James Barnes knew what he wanted and he wouldn’t judge you for it. He was just soft enough to make you not as nervous as you could’ve been. 

“Whatever you want to give me,” he answered. “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

For a moment, you wondered what you were comfortable with. Okay, maybe some of the 50 Shades stuff was ridiculous and farfetched, but could you be down with handcuffs? Were you at handcuffs stage No? No, you decided as he raised an eyebrow, slightly entertained. He could tell you were internalising. 

“Laydown, sweetheart, let’s put you right at ease, huh?” he moved to lay you across the cool sheets and he gave a lick of the lips, pleased with the sight. “You are beautiful, your body is so sexy,” he murmured to encouragingly as he went to the bedside table and dragged a couple of condoms from the bedside drawer. Discarding them on the bed, he pushed away his delicious Calvins, allowing you to drink him in fully and crawled across the bed to you, blatantly pushing your legs apart and he kissed you, his tongue as smooth as velvet, warm and inviting, his body weight heavy and welcome. His fingers laced into your hair, tugging at the roots, eliciting a moan from you and he smiled against your lips. “Ready for me?”

“Fuck yes,” you gave an encouraging knock from your groin to his as he gave a hiss and his eyes changed - from a blissful dark blue to dark black and drowning in desire. 

Reaching for the condom, he ripped it open skilfully and sexily with his gleaming pearly whites and you watched keenly as he rolled it over his dripping dick - long and thick, just how you liked it. Dear God, you pleaded with all the deities you knew, you hoped he knew how to use it. Swiping through your wetness, he let out a growl before sinking into you and bottoming out - he kissed you, he fucking laced your tongue with his and his kiss was as sinful as the potential act to follow. You might’ve gotten off again just like this and your core twinged in response. He huffed a playful giggle against your lips, clearly feeling it. “Buckle up, sweetheart. Let’s go for a fuckin’ ride.”

And with that, he began his ruthless assault on your senses, he surrounded you: his scent, the feel of his scorching skin against yours, his breathing against your ear as he pounded into you, the pinch of his hands on your hips as he used you to ground himself deeper. It felt too good to be true. How had you found yourself here in this predicament, with this gorgeous, powerful man who was playing your body like he created for his own personal use?

He rolled you over, your body now straddling him and you scampered into him, riding him gently just to find your rhythm - he was so deep, filling you entirely as he gripped your hips, helping you bottom out above him. You took his strangled form in - eyes closed with bottom lip between his teeth, muscles coiling in poetic motion, his little grunts of pleasure. This was truly an amazing night.

“Touch yourself,” he begged, moving his rough hands to your thighs, opening you a little more to him and his wish was your command. Your own touch causing a jolt of electricity citing through your body as his hips rose to meet your grinds, your whole form on display only for him and it excited you as you felt yet another orgasm come to rise from your own palm. You lost control as Bucky groaned underneath you, his hips speeding up as you brought on his pleasure and he spilled into the condom before you collapsed on top of him, still gasping. 

“Jesus,” you muttered to yourself, your hair cascaded in a mess over his chest as he gave a soft laugh, withdrew and tied the condom off the side of the bed. He adjusted his posture to account for both of you.

“You good?” he asked, gentle tugs of your hair rolling in his fingertips. 

“Yeah,” you breathed. “You?”

“Fucking good,” he confirmed. “Want some water or something?”

You had to admit you were parched and a sip of cool water sounded fantastic. “That would be great, thank you,” you replied as he scooted up from under you and wandered towards the bar, pouring some water into a couple of tumblers and leaving yours on your side of the bed before diving back in beside you.

* * *

“I have to head to work,” James whispered as he hovered over you, his palm caressing your cheek. “I had fun last night. The suite is all yours until you’re ready to head out,” he concluded before kissing your lips and straightening his suit jacket, heading his way towards the door. You enjoyed watching his ass in that crisp, tight black suit.

“Bye, James.”

“My friends call me Bucky,” he said with a smile and the door floated closed behind him. 

For your first one-night stand, you certainly weren’t disappointed with how it went. Meet a super sexy guy who happens to be the owner of a series of luxury hotels in major cities and islands. Flirt, have mind-blowing sex that left you screaming all night, relax in his the Penthouse Suite until you choose otherwise. The tingle between your legs felt bittersweet as you realised you’d enjoyed messing with him but you imagined he had a long-list of actresses and socialites to keep him warm in the dark hours of night so it probably wouldn’t happen again. He didn’t even ask for your number.

But it would be so sad if he truly wasted that body and the pleasure it had given you. You hoped he had lots of sex since he knew exactly how to please a partner.

Rolling to your side for a sip of water, you spied a card leaning against the refilled water glass. Moving closer, you noted it was a business card. You took it in your hand and smirked at the bold aesthetic:

The other side white with an unknown cell number and a simple, ‘ _Let’s do this again. How’s Saturday and the Maldives sound? x_ ’


	2. The Man Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 - people wanted a sequel and for some stupid reason, I fell for it.

Eye-opening was an understatement, you realised as you were guided into “Mr Barnes” private jet. Champagne was waiting on ice as well as some freshly sliced fruit. Oh, how the rich rolled. ‘Twas certainly not your usual fare of coach, travellers scaly bare feet, screaming, miserable babies and the rest that came with it.

“Welcome onboard,” you were greeted by a well-presented middle-aged lady as she reached for your carry on and jacket. “May I stow these for you?”

“Oh. Yes, please. Thanks,” you stammered and she gave a quirk of her lip, figuring you out immediately. This was all very new and you felt like a deer in headlights. You imagined you resembled one too.

“Champagne?” She hoisted the bottle of Krug into her hands and gave the bottle a gentle pop.

“Please,” anything to whet your pellet, to calm your nerves, to help you figure out why the fuck you had taken James up on his insanely generous albeit ridiculous offer.

“Please take a seat, ma’am. Mr Barnes is on a conference call in the main building but he shouldn’t be much longer. We will be wheels up upon his arrival,” she said, before pottering over to the galley, starting a pot of some fresh coffee.

“Thank you,” you called after her, taking a sip from the cool crystal flute in your palm and nervously took a seat, the leather soft under you.

“Let me know if you require anything during the flight, dear,” she told you as you anxiously took your first sip. Damn good champagne. You realised James probably didn’t drink the $5 bodega special you’d sometimes come to rely on after a particularly bad day. “Oh, good morning, Mr Barnes,” she spoke and you jerked up in your seat, slouch be gone as he stepped into the plane, a friendly grin on his face as he discarded his sunglasses, sliding them in his linen jacket pocket.

“Faith, is my guest onboard?” He asked, turning to look as you stood up quickly. “At ease,” he teased, approaching you. “It’s so good to see you,” he smiled, his warm hand sneaking to your hip and he left a small peck on your cheek. “Oh, good. We’re on champagne. No OJ? Going hard early, I see?” He teased the lady as she shushed him away, like a mother to goading child. “I’ve been flying with Faith a long time.”

“Of course,” you squeaked.

“Too long,” she tutted him before locking the main door and shutting off the cockpit as the wheels started slowly down the runway.

“You look lovely,” James said, taking in your jeans, sneakers and summery blouse.

“I had absolutely no idea what to wear or pack,” you admitted as he gave a light chuckle, pouring a glass for himself and topping up yours.

“To seeing where the weekend takes us,” he proposed and you toasted with him, before taking an eager sip. “We will probably be in the air a good portion of the day into the evening. So relax, settle back and we will hopefully have a smooth trip,” he reassured you.

“What do you generally do on long trips like these?” You found your voice a little.

“Usually work,” he admitted, guiding you to take a seat and he did the same across from you. “Catch up on sleep,” he hiffed a laugh. “There’s a whole host of movies and stuff to keep you busy. You don’t mind if I do some work at some point? I’ve got a huge merger approaching and have to be across the financials for the proposal in Male Monday.”

“You’re staying in Maldives until Monday?”

“Yes, _we_ are,” he said. “That okay?” 

You had absolutely no where else you wanted to be, so this was a fine development for you. 

“I don’t get days off, gorgeous. This is a partial business trip,” he confided. “But the resort will be at your disposal. Private beach, spa, pool, bar. It’ll be like you own the place,” he winked.

“Will you be gone the whole time?”

“No,” he said softly, reaching for your hand. “I’m all yours until Monday. I’ll make the acquisition and we can celebrate over a drink, some good food and an amazing sunset.”

Gotta admit, it was an alluring thought. He gave you a grin and nodded to you. “Buckle up, gorgeous. Do you like flying?”

“Hate it,” you admitted, fumbling with the belt.

“Me too, but we will be fine. Turbulence never hurt no one,” he gave a devilish lick of his lips as the engines started to warm up and you were suddenly in the air. A few minutes later, you were looking out the window, saying goodbye to New York and wondering where this long weekend was about to take you.

* * *

Whatever you had Googled about James’ resorts was really nothing in comparison to the beauty you saw as you sat beside him on the small boat towards the island. It had been a long flight, you’d watched a few movies together, ate, drank more champagne than you were willing to admit but now you were actually here, nothing could do this picture justice. The timing of your arrival at sunset could not have been more romantic and you were the least romantic person you knew.

The cruiser came to a gentle putting stop and James offered his hand to escort you off safely, you enjoyed the feel of his skin on yours. His hands calloused, it was no secret he worked out. You’d seen his muscular body move in perfect harmony to the beat he had put on you… mutilple times and if the thought again wasn’t as enticing as it was the first time - 

Thanking the driver with a generous handshake (tip), James guided you down the walkway and what awaited, you couldn’t even imagine in your wildest dreams - a huge villa over the water so clear you could see the fish and other underwater creatures below, sun beds begging to bathed on especially at golden hour.

James grinned as he watched the wonder in your eyes - he enjoyed bringing that smile to your beautiful face. He certainly wouldn’t tire of it this weekend. “Come on, let me take you inside and we can check out the room.”

“Room? This is bigger than my apartment block,” you mumbled as he gave you a hand and led you in. The room was just something else all together. The blinds had been drawn regardless of how segregated you were from the rest of the hotel’s community. Tropical flowers flittered over the California King bedspread, what you assumed was the James Barnes experience raring to go: more champagne, local fruits and delicacies, chocolates to one side. A jacuzzi bubbling and begging to be joined at any time, again petals bobbing on the top, a few candles melted on its ledge. The bathroom was behind, a shower for two with various settings, the works for whatever you could ever need in your beauty case littered the vanity neatly. “This place is truly spectacular, James.”

He huffed a modest laugh. “Yeah, I’m happy with it,” he told you. Why should he hold back his pride? He’d clearly invested a lot of time and cash into his properties for a certain level of luxury to be achieved. Not too shabby for you, you realised. “I think a shower before before dinner, if you like?”

It sounded great, you thought. Together more so but you obliged him and said he definitely deserved the first shower with everything he’d already provided you.

“Okay,” he revealed a gentle grin, leaving a light kiss on your temple. “I won’t be long.”

“No rush,” you told him, heading outside to take in the view again. To collect yourself, to try and get it through your head how you’d gotten so lucky to catch the eye of one of the world’s most eligible bachelors.

You wandered back in as he appeared in a fluffy navy robe that left very little to the imagination. “That was great,” he admitted. “Go unwind and then we will get ready.”

“Sounds good,” you replied, passing him. He lightly took your wrist.

“I’m glad you decided to join me,” he told you, his other hand grazing your cheek with his knuckles. “So beautiful.”

Ducking your head, you made a joke about showers waiting for no one and willingly took your leave. About 10 minutes later, lathered in the most expensive hair and skincare in the world, you reappeared in a matching robe, finding James on the couch, a glass of whiskey dangling from his long fingers, legs folded at the knee as he pulled his plump lip into his mouth.

“Feeling good?” the question seemed to have a double meaning and if there was ever a hint to make a man yours, here was an opportunity to do it.

“Great,” you approached and and stood before his crossed knees that he dropped so you could make your way between them.

“What’s floating through that head of yours?” He teased as you began to kneel, widening his thighs, the robe he wore doing very little to hide anything under it. “You don’t have any immediate plans?” 

James watched your fingers as they moved lower towards the robe’s belt. “No plans, but something appears to be coming up,” he admitted. “We don’t have to - ”

“I was just on a flight with you for over half a day and the best we did was snuggle - I’d like to get reaccquinted, if that’s okay?” 

He licked his lips and put his hands behind his head. “It’s more than okay,” he told you as the belt was loosened, your hands making light work of the rest. “You sure?” he asked as he petted your shoulders, his hands pushing in to the ultra snug terrytowel reveal more of your skin to him. “I don’t want you to feel obligated - ”

“I do a little,” you admitted as he sighed sadly. “But I really want to go down on you a hellova lot more,” you took his begging cock into your hands, working him in a gentle rhythm as he breathed a deep sigh, taking a sip of his whisky and putting it on the side table with a heavy clink. Encouraged, you gently licked the tip and felt the powerhouse above you shudder and you pulled his slick head past your eager lips. 

“That’s good,” he swallowed hard. He pushed back your hair, lassoing it around his hands and eased himself further down the couch so you have better access. “You’re so fucking good at that,” he encouraged you, little coos and moans filling the otherwise quiet of the dim suite. “Oh, my - ” he choked on his words as your took him fully, sucking and licking him, his sounds making you wet. Watching such a strong man come to pieces, thanks to your skilled tongue. While you enjoyed giving head, it wasn’t on top of your priority list but for James Barnes, you’d perform on the hour every hour if he so wished it to be. 

Clawing at his abs, you felt the clenches of well worked muscle under your fingers tips, the flex and release of his body under your touch turning you on as well. 

“Are you on the pill?” he muttered through grunts. A nod. “I’m clean,” he continued. “Are you?” you gave him another nod to the affirmative. “Good,” he pulled you off up off him, making light work of your robe, letting it drop to the sensory rug under your toes. “Jesus,” he took your hands and guided you onto his thighs, shrugging himself out of what was left of the robe covering his back and shoulders. He pulled your face to his, laying hungry kisses against your mouth, his tongue swiftly taking to yours. James pulled you flush against him and with his free hand, reached between your bodies to see how wet you were. 

Drenched, you wanted to verbalise but his dirty smirk against your lips told you he was very aware of how ready you were for him. 

“Dripping,” he said, palming his cock in his hands before swiping through the slick of your folds, helping you sink on to him, you bit back a pleasured groan. “You’re so tight. You okay?” he asked as you willingly took him inside you. 

“Yeah,” you swallowed a moan. 

“So fucking good,” he said as he met your lips again, his strong, calloused hands fisting your hips to find the perfect rhythm for you both. It was criminal to feel so good, you thought, your head falling back as he licked and kissed across your décolletage, pulling you back to him so his hot mouth could chew and nip on your nipples, you grinding down on him, needing as much friction as possible.

This man was made for sex, your realised as with all his strength he stood you both up (remember, powerful thighs) and walked you connected to the bed, him carefully falling on you and linking your fingers above your head, his hips curving into yours, slow and deep. You opened your eyes to see his body work above you: it was what dreams were made of. He was criminally sexy, from top to toe, he was made for fucking and it spurned you on further as you guided one of his hands between your bodies, urging his fingers to help bring you to the edge. 

God, just looking at him could make you come, you realised as he pummelled a little harder and toyed with your clit. Biting back a moan, you knew he was playing your body like a goddamn symphony. You barely knew each other but this man was turning you inside out. It took a lot for you to have this kind of connection with a man but this was something else - 

“Fuck,” you hissed your body started to clench around James. He breathed in pleasure as the waves of heat rolled through your body, central to where your bodies met and James swore just as blue.

“Fuckin’ yes, you are so beautiful as you come, gorgeous,” he murmured. “Keep going, feel it, you bringing me with you,” he urged as his hips speed up, thrusts raw and rigid as your orgasm withdrew his. His final thrusts rough and wild as his head lolled back, his come filling you, leaking between you and he collapsed on you.

Together, you were a sweaty mess and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

* * *

The next day (after a night of very little sleep) was spent lounging and exploring the resort, hand in hand, sun beating down on warm skin as the sun. Everybody knew who James was, you’d never heard “Mr Barnes” so often in your life. And he knew many, many employees by name, it was very surprising that someone at his level of business knew the name of those from the base and up. 

You’d stopped for cocktail hour at one of the private cabanas at the pool bar. Glamorzons from all races parading around in barely there bikinis, swimming in diamonds and jewels that cost more than your parents home. It didn’t make you feel inadequate _at all_.

“I want everyone to be able to approach me, and if need be, I can go back and do the same,” he explained. “And everyone wears a name badge.”

You snorted. “Pretty sure my boss doesn’t know my name even with my name badge,” you muttered, adjusting your shades over your eyes as James gave a half-grin. “And there is only a half-dozen of us in a coffee shop.”

“Coffee shop?” 

“Yeah, gotta make ends meet somehow while I’m studying.”

“Ahh, yes,” he nodded. “I know what that is like.”

“You worked in a coffee shop when you were at college?” you asked incredulously. Your Googling had told you enough about James’ past (girlfriends and rumoured relationships included) that the Barnes’ family came from money. James’ mother was an Italian model and his father and father’s family had property investments across the globe and a portfolio of ventures you could only see to believe.

“Bar,” James corrected. “It was the easiest job with my schedule. And I make killer cocktails so the tips were always good.”

“And you’re cute.”

He shook his head, bashfully. “I don’t see it that way.”

“So modest,” you cupped his cheek. “You come from money,” you softly reminded him. He raised an eyebrow, a little surprised. “I Googled,” you mumbled bashfully as he chuckled quietly. 

“Look, I’ll be honest with ya. I did grow up with cash. But I a fallout with my old man when I told him I didn’t want to go into the family business. He had always planned for me to be his heir. His thoughts were college then after a few years learning the ropes, I’d take over company. I wasn’t a fan of how he handled some aspects of his business. It was hard, it was unfair, he didn’t have a consideration for the businesses he acquired, dissected and re-sold, usually in shadows of their previous glories. I’ve learned to be transparent with matters of that sort. I don’t want to have a workforce who feel hard done by. I ensure my employees have medical, parental leave, carers leave. Life happens, work is included but who wants to work to live? I want my people to come to work and have a the wages to enjoy their time with their families, not use their down time to find other ways to make ends meet.”

Add ‘saint’ to the list of things James Barnes was. 

“From the ground up, my businesses are only as good as those who front up to work everyday. But I’m not naive to think that there are people who work for me that fuckin’ hate me but I hope a good majority don’t.”

You gave him a fond smile. 

“What?”

“I just assumed you were some ruthless businessman that chews people up and spits them out once the deal is done.”

He grinned brightly. “Don’t get me wrong. When things go to shit, I fight to the death. I can go pretty hard when required.”

“Bet you do,” you joked as he blushed, dropping his eyes. 

“Don’t start,” he replied, voice a little rough with desire. 

“Or else what?” you joked as he stood and closed the cloth o the cabana, a dark look crossing his features and you didn’t need a verbal to understand exactly what he meant.

* * *

“Holy shit! This is why you called in last weekend?!” you heard the sequel from behind you as one of the tabloid rags the coffee shop purchased for patrons was slammed before you as you wiped down a table just vacated. 

Jumping back in surprise, a finger aimed ferociously at the glossy print and its big, bold photo of you and James in a passionate embrace on the beach, waves crashing around your legs, all very sexy-like. Another with you lazily walking hand in hand at sunset, sunglasses pushed off your faces and wide grins on your faces, the next photo of James stopping you and kissing you deeply, his large hand taking a large chunk of your ass. Yikes. 

Why was air suddenly not getting to your lungs?

“You’re dating James Barnes, the hotel guy?! He’s, like, a multi-millionaire!”

Snatching the mag to scan the words, you were playboy Barnes’ ‘new mystery love. While it’s only new, the glamourous couple gazed adoringly at each other and enjoyed a few passionate embraces on the private beach. Barnes closed a deal to end their loved-up weekend together, celebrating over a candlelit dinner on the balcony of their private villa before flying home on his private jet the following morning.’

“Wow,” you could barely verbalise as your phone started vibrating in your pocket. Repeatedly, obnoxiously - was word out? Did people still read print media? Feeling faint, you took the magazine to the bathroom, looking yourself in as you retrieved your phone.

‘You are all over IG in paparazzi pix - this is you, right?’ and a link to more the images.

‘You are fucking James Barnes?! You’ve got some fuckin’ explaining to do, girl -“


End file.
